


Saudade

by ranichi17



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Character Study, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Parent Death, Vignette, Wakes & Funerals, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, death is really the third character here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranichi17/pseuds/ranichi17
Summary: Sagishi thinks of Ryouta through the passing of the seasons





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no SagiMita!
> 
> First of all, yes this is one of those ten WIPs I promised back in the first chapter of the KagePro AU. Secondly, this is all based off [this](http://iphitos.tumblr.com/post/143471320320/seven-stages-of-grieving) particular piece of pound poetry so you should read it and despair with me.

i.

By the time the student body of Hope’s Peak Academy assembled in the amphitheater, main and reserve courses both, the sun was already high up in the sky. It felt too warm and bright for an occasion such as the one happening today in Sagishi’s opinion.

It was sudden, according to the rumours that trickled down amongst the students. One day Headmaster Tengan seemed like he was going to live forever, the next, he was gone.

Headmaster Kirigiri continues to drone on in the podium, oblivious to the fact that the younger students who never knew Headmaster Tengan are likely already bored. In contrast, the atmosphere in the raised platform where the rest of the faculty are seated, most of them former students, is understandably melancholic. Sagishi even spied Yukizome– _sensei_ wiping away a stray tear at some point.

“Uhm,” Ryouta says, fidgeting uncomfortably beside Sagishi in his school uniform that hangs loosely over him after months of poor health. “How much longer do you think this is gonna be? I–I kinda want to get back to work already.”

“You’re terrible at this,” Sagishi chides, smiling fondly at Ryouta nonetheless.

“W–What are you talking about? I’m _great_ at funerals,” Ryouta protests. “And I’m not the only one complaining, look at what the first years are doing.”

“Uh–huh,” Sagishi says absentmindedly, taking Ryouta’s hand in his own to stop him from picking at the lint on his blazer. “That’s because you’ve never attended a funeral in your life before this one.”

Then again, Ryouta’s right. The students in the first–year line are in various states of discomfort, some of them already dozing off on their feet, the others fanning themselves furiously with their hands. Only a handful of them, like that hall monitor, are actually still paying attention.

 _Nobody’s good at dying_ , Sagishi thinks to himself.

Sagishi turns his eyes back to Ryouta, with his hair glinting in the sunlight like it was made of some precious metal, and remembers that first night they met, when Ryouta was so close to death from chronic illness worsened by overwork.

_I hope I never have to do a eulogy for you._

“What? Is there something on my face?” Ryouta asks the minute he catches Sagishi staring.

“Nothing,” Sagishi says, shaking his head. “Pay attention, Yukizome– _sensei_ ’s staring at us.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Ryouta says as turns around to face front once again.

Sagishi just holds his hand tighter in response.

 

ii.

Ryouta insists he sit at the front with him. The funeral’s long and daunting and some of Ryouta’s relatives give them disapproving glances whenever they hold hands. It’s only because of Ryouta and his mother that Sagishi hasn’t bolted out of his seat yet.

Sagishi has never had the opportunity to be introduced to Ryouta’s father. Ryouta himself hasn’t seen his father in years, wasn’t even particularly close to him, with his father spending most of his time overseas after the messy divorce with Ryouta’s mother until the diagnosis made him move back permanently to Japan.

It wasn’t unexpected, Ryouta tells Sagishi. The prognosis wasn’t exactly positive. Ryouta only hates that he wasn’t there when it happened in the middle of finals week. Yukizome– _sensei_ had pulled him aside after the English exam and he never returned to the classroom. Sagishi found him in his dorm room that night packing his suitcase, dangerously near a mental and physical collapse. Sagishi stayed with him all night, lending him a shoulder to cry on all the while watching to see if Ryouta needed to go to the infirmary.

Ryouta looks better now, eyes red–rimmed but dry, the breeze blowing through his hair that Sagishi can smell his shampoo. In his oversized black suit that contrasts with his pale complexion, Ryouta looks like the child he still is. He’s fidgeting with the sleeves that are longer than his arms, nervously folding and unfolding the sleeves to the right length again and again while accepting condolences from those in attendance.

“Ryouta?” Sagishi calls out. It makes Ryouta jump. “You want to leave for a while to calm down?”

“N–No, I’ll be fine,” Ryouta says, shaking his head. “The funeral’s almost done anyway. I think I’m great at this.”

“Yes, you are,” Sagishi says, taking Ryouta’s hand in his own, their fingers interlacing as Sagishi clasps his hand tight.

“Thanks for being here,” Ryouta whispers, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Where else would I be?” Sagishi says, smiling back.

 

iii.

Sagishi can’t help but wonder what he’s even doing here. Their father has kicked them out of the family since Byakuya won the heir competition years ago. And yet he’s still here, attending the funeral at Byakuya’s behest with the rest of their exiled siblings. Byakuya’s the family head now, inviting all of their siblings back and offering them a position in the company should they choose to accept it. Perhaps Hope’s Peak and his classmates have a good influence on his little brother, after all.

The funeral’s drawn-out and ridiculous and Sagishi could have made better use of his time, but his father’s still his father and deserves at least some amount of respect no matter how detached he was from his children in life.

Ryouta’s beside him, smoothing out the creases on his suit and clearly uncomfortable with the ostentatious displays of wealth from the associates of the Togami conglomerate. It makes Sagishi feel guilty for dragging him out here.

“Hey,” Sagishi says, clearing his throat. “We can leave if you want.”

Ryouta abruptly stops fidgeting to look at him, an uneasy smile on his lips. “It’s fine. It’s your father’s funeral, you should stay here. I know the way back to the hotel.”

“No, no, I’ll go back with you,” Sagishi insists, shaking his head. “It’s going to be dark soon, it’s not safe for you to be walking alone outside.”

Sagishi leaves Ryouta’s side only for a moment to go find Aloysius and explain they’re leaving. Aloysius only smiles and bows at him saying he’d tell Byakuya before disappearing to fetch their coats. Ryouta’s still standing where he left him, pretending to check the time on his watch.

“I guess I’m great at funerals after all,” Ryouta says as he pulls on his coat that Aloysius hands him by the doorway, just as Sagishi notices his shoelaces have come undone.

“Maybe,” Sagishi shrugs, bending down to tie his laces.

“I _am_ , though,” Ryouta says with a childish pout. “And you really don’t have to go with me, I can manage alone.”

“That’s nonsense. What if something happens to you on the road?” Sagishi objects, bending down to kiss Ryouta on his pouting lips, uncaring about the stares he knows they’re receiving right now. When he pulls away, Ryouta looks stunned and breathless and blushing so much that for a split second Sagishi fears he’d given Ryouta an attack. That is, until Ryouta breaks into a genuine smile and pulls him back in for more.

 

iv.

They haven’t caught the mugger yet, the police tell Nanami’s family. Sagishi doubts they ever will.

It’s two weeks before graduation. Their class should be celebrating. Instead, they’re attending a funeral.

Nanami’s family sits at the front, politely accepting condolences from the funeral–goers. Hinata’s sitting with them, as Nanami’s dearest friend, his head bowed and his hands held tight into fists. Right now Yukizome– _sensei_ ’s patting his back and talking to him. Sagishi doesn’t need to hear her to know she’s telling him false assurances.

_Why her, of all people? It’s not fair!_

_And they didn’t… they didn’t have to kill her! Nanami wasn’t going to fight back, they could have just taken her money!_

“Hey,” Ryouta says, holding Sagishi’s hand that he didn’t even notice was shaking.

“Sorry,” Sagishi says, squeezing Ryouta’s hand back.

Ryouta looks at Sagishi, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “It’s gonna be fine. They’re gonna find whoever did this eventually.”

“What if they don’t?!” Sagishi snaps, making Ryouta flinch. “I’m sorry, it’s just not _fair_. She didn’t have to die like this.”

“I know,” Ryouta whispers, resting his head on Sagishi’s shoulder.

Sagishi wraps an arm around Ryouta. He thinks about Nanami, lying in that coffin, who’s never going to experience this kind of intimacy, and feels guilty for having this.

He looks at Ryouta, who’s burying his face deeper into Sagishi’s shoulder trying to find a comfortable position to take a much–deserved nap in, and thinks that if anything like what happened to Nanami happens to Ryouta, Sagishi wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

“We can go back to the dorm if you want to sleep,” Sagishi whispers.

“I’m not sleepy,” Ryouta says.

Sagishi raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because I think it’s disrespectful to fall asleep at a funeral.”

“I’m not,” Ryouta insists, attempting to kiss Sagishi’s cheek but ending up planting one on his neck instead because of the awkward angle. “I just like how warm you are. Besides, didn’t I tell you I’m great at funerals?”

“You did,” Sagishi says, the hint of a smile forming on his lips. “And you are.”

 

v.

“You’re not even supposed to be drinking wine,” Sagishi admonishes Ryouta, staring up at him with eyes devoid of emotion.

Ryouta looks up from the wineglass he’s cradling in his hand, softly returning Sagishi’s gaze with his own hazel eyes. Sagishi thinks he can see pity in them. He doesn’t need it.

“It’s grape juice.”

“Oh,” Sagishi sighs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sagishi sees the casket again. Mahogany. Trust Byakuya to buy only the best for the most loyal servant the Togami family ever had in recent memory.

Aloysius would hate it, though. He never did like this much fuss. Byakuya might be the favorite child, but Sagishi knows Aloysius better than his little brother does. _Knew,_ he corrects himself automatically as he tries to swallow the lump that reformed in his throat.

The next thing he knows, he’s already sobbing his heart out on Ryouta’s shoulder.

Ryouta holds Sagishi tight in his arms, shushing him and rubbing his back in a soothing back and forth motion until the sobs wracking through him quiet down into heaving breaths.

“They’re staring at you,” Ryouta whispers in Sagishi’s ear. “Maybe because they’ve never seen a Togami display emotions so openly.”

“I don’t care. Let them,” Sagishi says stubbornly as he pulls away from Ryouta’s embrace, voice still brittle with emotion.

“I’m here if you need me,” Ryouta says as he wipes away a stray tear clinging to Sagishi’s lashes.

“I know,” Sagishi mumbles.

Sagishi looks at Ryouta again. He’s blurry in Sagishi’s vision that’s still swimming with tears, and combined with the setting sun behind Ryouta’s head, it makes him look like he’s wearing a halo. Sagishi shudders at it.

Ryouta sees the action, and probably assumes Sagishi’s about to start crying again as he bends down to plant a kiss on Sagishi’s cheek. It feels like a butterfly landing on his cheek.

“You know I’ll never leave you, right? I love you too much for that,” Ryouta says, smiling as if to reassure him. “Besides, I’m great at funerals.”

“I know. And I love you, too,” Sagishi replies, returning Ryouta’s smile with a smile of his own as he wipes away the rest of his tears and pushes away any thoughts of that image.

 

vi.

“Okay there, darling?” Sagishi asks, supporting Ryouta with both arms as they walk back to the car. He looks like he’s going to collapse at any second.

“Of course,” Ryouta whispers, looking up at Sagishi with tired, tired eyes. He hasn’t slept a wink since that call a week ago. “I’m great at funerals, remember?”

“Yes.” Sagishi smiles. “You did great. I’m sure she’ll be proud of you.”

The rest of the mourners have already left, leaving Ryouta and Sagishi alone in the graveyard. It’s a cold January afternoon, and the chilly air turns their breaths into puffs of smoke as soon as it leaves them. Ryouta’s breaths come up quick and short, as they do before each attack. It does nothing to make Sagishi stop worrying about Ryouta following his mother to the grave.

Mikan’s waiting for them in the car, and she unlocks the doors when they’re in sight. Sagishi helps Ryouta into the backseat, getting in himself afterwards.

Ryouta leans his head on Sagishi’s shoulder as soon as Mikan starts the car, letting out a long and loud sigh as he closes his eyes and places a hand on his chest, directly above where his heart is.

Sagishi’s breath catches in his throat.

“Ryouta?” Sagishi asks, trying not to let his concern seep through his voice.

“I’m fine,” Ryouta mumbles. “Just tired.”

Sagishi kisses Ryouta’s hair. “Lie down on my lap, it’s more comfortable.”

“Okay,” Ryouta says, adjusting in his seat so that he can rest his head on Sagishi’s lap.

Sagishi runs his hand through Ryouta’s hair, humming. “Want to go to the hospital first before we go back to the flat?”

“I’m okay. Let’s just go home,” Ryouta whispers, closing his eyes again.

“Alright,” Sagishi says, untangling the knots in Ryouta’s hair.

“I miss her,” Ryouta says as they pass through another block, just when Sagishi thinks he’s fallen asleep.

“I know,” Sagishi replies.

“You’re not gonna leave me too, right?” Ryouta asks drowsily.

Sagishi hums as he continues to brush Ryouta’s hair. “You know I won’t. In case you forgot, we’re already married. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

“Love you,” Ryouta mumbles.

“Love you too.” Sagishi smiles as he watches Ryouta slowly relax into a deep slumber.

 

vii.

He looks like he’s just sleeping.

_Wake up. Please wake up._

Thirty’s no age for anyone to have their heart give out on them, but Ryouta’s always had a weak heart and the stresses of the past year have finally taken their toll on him.

 _I_ told _you it’s not a problem for me to pay for your surgery. Why did you have to put it off and insist on saving up for it yourself?_

He should have been there. But the school only called Sagishi to tell him his husband collapsed in front of his students when Ryouta’s already slipped into the coma he never woke up from, and for that he hates them.

_You promised you’ll never leave me._

Maybe he should have known this was going to happen. But there wasn’t any warning that morning, just a normal breakfast and Ryouta looking perfectly fine. Was he just hiding it so Sagishi wouldn’t worry?

_Oh, Ryouta._

He’s wearing his best suit, the one Sagishi bought for him on his 25th birthday that he only ever wears when there’s a school function for fear of ruining it. It’s a loose fit now, but the mortician pinned it at the back so it won’t be obvious. Sagishi didn’t even notice he’d lost that much weight.  _(What kind of a husband doesn’t notice these things?)_ Was it from when his mother died? Or from when he wasted away in coma during what was the worst week of Sagishi’s life?

_Come back to me. Please._

Their wedding ring’s in Sagishi’s pocket. The hospital gave it back to him along with the rest of Ryouta’s belongings when he first got there, out of breath from rushing out of a meeting without explanation just so he could reach Ryouta in time, which was still ultimately rendered pointless. It’s a mystery why Byakuya didn’t fire him. Sagishi reaches for Ryouta’s hand _(it’s cold and pale and lifeless and Ryouta shouldn’t ever be any of those things)_ and slips the ring back on his finger. The dim light of the funeral parlour catches on the gold ring, making it glint in Sagishi’s eyes like the stars on that moonless night when he proposed.

_I love you._

Mikan’s next to Sagishi now, squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to console him. He didn’t notice when she got into the room.

“It’s time,” Mikan whispers. “Are you ready?”

“Of course,” Sagishi says, glancing at Ryouta’s peaceful face one last time before the coffin’s shut close. “I’m great at funerals.”

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow this turned into the longest oneshot I’ve ever written (so far).
> 
> There’s not much explaining to do here except that I cried while writing that last vignette.  
> Also, yes, in this fic Sagishi’s one of the exiled Togamis. It’s probably one of my favorite fan theories.
> 
> As always, I also have a tumblr right [here](http://ranichi17.tumblr.com/).


End file.
